An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.

**la coupe est pleine** · May 19, 2010, 05:35 AM

Originally Posted by Darkan

Just letting you know I keep an eye on both threads. Who knows what games you post in one and not the other so I'm making sure.

Ohh, by the way, I forgot to ask: how is Michel doing?

Cheers for your eternal and omnipotent support.

I will definitely try to invent some alternate games for this thread.

What about Michel? Ah ah. Great question. Philippe has lost any link with him since he is in Toulouse. Be sure that Michel doesn't waste in time. He won't certainly not be a master of battles but he would play a key role in this AAR.
For the moment, he stays in the shadows of this AAR.

**la coupe est pleine** · May 19, 2010, 01:13 PM

Chapter VIII : Dark future

An de Grâce 1199 AC.
Royaume de France.
Pyrenees.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Charles de Bouillon explained me the other news which arrived the same day.
Pierre de Cervolles, the governor of Narbonne, who discovered Durandal, had been killed during an ambush. It might be a Moorish’s one, the rumor said. Nobody was ready to defend Narbonne now…

Moreover, very bad news came from the north of the Kingdom. These bastards Dutchmen had invaded France during the winter and launched a synchronized attack on Paris and Rheims. The king and Michel that I hadn’t seen for years are besieged.
The East Border Army was too far away to rescue them.
The Kingdom faced to be destroyed by a single Flanders operation.

The last hope remained in the Lord of Lorraine, Jehanin Maquereau, who came with his bodyguards and raised a mercenary’s army to protect Paris, and then maybe could rush into Rheims, if time is sufficient. The kingdom is now quite in bankrupt because of this mercenary army.

I asked:
- “Why couldn’t we help them? We have a small army but every men should be employed to protect the king, my dear father, isn’t it?”.

- “It isn’t possible” Charles replied.
“Louis wants to clean the insult Guillaume de Lyon has done, and no more strengths could be sent to the North. It is madness, but I have to obey the heir.
Could God help our Kingdom and his people!”
He finished, glazing at the sky.

I could no nothing more than agreeing.

That moment, a messenger came to see Charles. He was an old exhausted knight and the message seemed to be extremely important.
- “I’m the messenger sent by the lord of Zaragoza” he introduced himself. “We are in great danger.”

- “What happened?” asked Charles, suddenly worried.

The messenger took a breath and started his story.
- “I was one of the knights in the crusade army of Louis, which stayed around Zaragoza, and we were trapped by the huge Moor’s army, coming back from the Jihad.
Our general, Gerard, organized very well the defense behind a bridge on the Ebro.
We were overwhelmed by Muharib ibn Zuhayr’s army, but we were also exited to fight infidels because we missed it during the Crusade against Cordoba.

We prepared stakes to be preserved from the Arabic cavalry before to wait for the swine Saracens.
Then they arrived, with Muharib avoiding all the stakes, trying to reach General Gerard. The last shield, a group of Axe foot knights, fought well to preserve our French commander.

However, these cunning bastards were throwing us spears and arrows, decimating us.
It was a rain of iron.

I remember that time their ferocious Muharib, still fighting against our heavy warriors. He shouted “Allah Akbar”, glazing at the sky. I feared that he was right, because his voice seemed to reach the sun, and frightened all of us.
But then, one of the mailed-knight lifted his axe to blow the Moors’ general, reaching his chest. Muharib was carved out and died before understanding his fate.
I know now that their god isn’t the right, grâce à Dieu.

Their army didn’t flee, they were Muslims fanatics and nobody could have stopped them. We were slaughtered and our great general Gerard arrived to protect our flanks. He fought like a lion, killing dozens of infidels.

But it wasn’t enough. He was quickly surrounded, and his head cut down by a heavy warrior.
It was too much for us and the last French crusaders flew together. Our eyes were wet and we were angry about our defeat. But we couldn’t have done more.

We have fought until the last hope.
They were 3 times our number and even Louis couldn’t have protected us against that evil army.

Those heretics had slaughtered the poor warriors they succeeded to capture. Therefore, my brother was executed amongst them and my only will is to kill them all now.

You have to be fast because Zaragoza is defenseless now. There is just some militia in the town, and the Muslim army isn’t far from the city.”
He finished, more exhausted than before.

I fixed Charles with a determined sight. He understood and said
- “I’m not a fighter Philippe. You know that. I am used with ruling a town or a citadel, but my swords skills are not those required to lead an army. I’m confident with you, Philippe. I let my little army in your hands, and I will try to organize the defense of Zaragoza, if we succeed to arrive in time.”

I acknowledged, giving him a hug where he felt the respect I owe him for saving my life.
- “Merci Charles, I will be worthy of that honor, you can be sure of that.”

We had just entered the Iberia Peninsula. My future was ready to begin. And I felt that the beginning was bad.

- “I will avenge you Hélène. My heart will never forget you…, and Louis neither…”

**la coupe est pleine** · May 24, 2010, 12:33 PM

Iberian Campaign (Part I)
Chapter IX : General Philippe

An de Grâce 1199 AC.
Royaume de France.
Iberian Peninsula.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The next 3 weeks were spent walking toward Zaragoza. The famous and proud wealthy city of the north of the Peninsula.
- “It is French, but for as long”, I was thinking.

I’ve never been fighting in a real war before and I felt that these times won’t last. I could see in my soldiers’s faces that they were ready for the fight. The words of the knight who said us the sad defeat in the Ebro Bridge had spread in the army and they would like to avenge their brothers.
We were a little troop of less than a thousand soldiers but some other troops were expected to join us near Zaragoza.

The messenger knight was a veteran soldier. He made the rest of the way to Zaragoza with me and Charles de Bouillon. He was called André de Montfort. He was 45 years old and had fought in the Kingdom of Jerusalem for 5 years, before to come back in his lands. He was a warrior, and when the second crusade was launched against Cordoue, he couldn’t stayed in his little castle, and joined Louis’s army.

I strongly hated crusaders since my youth, but André was really smart. During the long talks we had together, he explained me the brutality of some fanatic crusaders. He was not shaped with the same materials. He had been in the Holy Land to find his faith, not to murder and steal lands. And he didn’t stay long there.

I was quite baffled.
The view of the world I had was simple. I thought to know who the bad were and who the good were. Before leaving Toulouse, I would have been delighted to know the sad fate of the crusade army at the Ebro Bridge, but since I knew that the prisoners had been shouted down with a cool head, since I met André, I didn’t know what to think. The world seemed so complex all at once.

We were one day walking far from Zaragoza when a huge troop arrived in front of us.
- “Who was it? “ I asked Charles.
- “I don’t know” he replied “it can’t be the troops let by Louis because we have met them 3 days ago. It should be the Moors. Prepare the army Philippe, we should be ready to fight those infidels”.

I suddenly felt anxious. I had never had the time to be experimented at leading an army and I could be ambushed…

I was riding to warn the officers when André de Montfort arrived beside me, smiling.
- “They are our friends Philippe, don’t worry. I discerned their standards.”
The old veteran was right. It was a heavy cavalry troop arriving to join us. They were a mix of crusader knights and cavalry sergeants. They were nearly three hundreds. The troop I was leading was completely made of foot soldiers. I was now leading one of the most powerful armies of the Kingdom.
The south border army.

These heavy and experimented knights came from Zaragoza, with bad news. The Moorish’s army had decided and succeeded to besiege the city.

The Crusader knights succeeded to escape the city before the Moorish’s arrival. They knew that our troop was coming from Toulouse and these knights were efficient in battlefields, not for defending a town street by street.

After long talks, they agreed to join my army and to be lead by my standard. It was a harsh negotiation, because they couldn’t believe that I was the King’s adoptive son, and the general of the troop I was leading from Toulouse. They were crusaders, and be led by an Arabic young and in-experimented noble was hard to accept for them. Fortunately, Charles and André were supporting me and Charles was famous for these Aquitaine’s warriors.

We decided to walk toward the city and try to counterattack, if the city had succeeded to bear the first weeks of siege.

The following morning, I knew that the fight will start before the end of the day. My thoughts were still focused on my beloved Hélène and that son of whore that was Louis Sans Merci. However, I knew that I should remember my old war taught I learnt in the citadel, with the contact of war nobles.

We saw the walls of Zaragoza before midday, the sun was shining in the deserted lands surrounding. We could clearly distinguish the Moorish’s army. They were still outside the city.
Soldiers felt stronger when they saw that the people hadn’t surrendered. They were becoming bloodthirsty, confident by the presence of the huge cavalry of veteran knights around us. The veteran knights were ready for the fight. Like each French knight of the kingdom, they would like to charge for the honor, when they understood than the Sarasin’s army was almost dismounted.

I was ready to agree, myself exited by a victory which seemed easy. That crucial time, André de Montfort came beside me ordering:
- “Not now Philippe. One of my general in the Holy land had made the same mistake years ago, and we were slaughtered because of the noble’s madness. We have the time to prepare well our plans, and they have discovered us.”

I glanced at the enemy’s army, and indeed, I clearly saw their spearmen, nearly hidden behind a small hill, between our vanguard and the rest of their army.
André was right; our powerful cavalry could have been trapped by those cunning Saracens.

Despite the protests of the crusader knights, I took my time before launching the bloody charge. As if I had guessed his plan, the Moorish general called back his troops, and organized them in the top of a hill. It was a field, the perfect area for my heavy French cavalry. I was delighted.

André, who had stayed beside me, whispered at my ears.
- “Here is the plan Philippe. They are convinced that their defensive position on the top of the hill is their strength. Let use it as their weakness. I strongly advise you to surround them with your cavalry. They won’t outflank you with their spearmen because they want to keep their position. Then, you just have to attack with your dismounted soldiers. They should hold the position until the cavalry could launch the deadly and final charge.”

I fixed him, quite stunned about his experience and the help he was sending me.
- “I agree André, go back and join your horsemen, sending them the message” I replied, thanks in my voice.

I stayed with my bodyguards. They were French knights. They were experimented. They were bearing old wounds.
Just my opposite.
I knew that I should gain their confidence. If not, it could be easy for them to let me without support, trapped during the first ambush.
But I was ready. Ready to play my fate.
- “I will win for you Hélène,…”

The Moorish were ready on the top of the hill, taunting at us. We couldn’t understand a single word of their snake language, but I could be sure they were claiming for our blood.

I glazed at them once time again. Then I brandished Durandal, blinding under the Spanish sun. The deadly jewel was ready.
And I shouted heavily:
- “Montjoie Saint denis, à l’attaque mes amis. Let‘s show to these desert snakes our French honor. I want your sword to be proud of you. Let’s save our friends besieged in Zaragoza. Pour la France!!!”.

I knew that I wasn’t the best to motivate. I used to be without charisma since my youth. But the army wasn’t waiting for a charismatic leader, they were waiting some blood, some gold in our foes pockets, they were waiting the glory…

And they attacked.

It was like the storm. Hundreds of war steeds were rounding the hill, hammering the ground with their hooves.
It was the first time I was part of a battle. And I was the general!

I was stunned by the beauty of this cavalry wave, ready to submerge the enemy. My heart was beating heavily in my chest, watching my foot soldiers, climbing the hill, at medium speed.
The moment they reached the foes, I heard howls, I heard the brutality of shields burst by the impact of an iron wave. I was petrified, and couldn’t stop watching the crucial point of the battle.

And then, a soft and continuous sound started to grow. It became a fantastic roar and I saw the crusader knights charging for the back of the enemy. The Moorish general and his cavalry started to counter-attack, but they were defenseless against the long battle spears, carrying the power of the horse. Their bronze armors exploded against the sharpen tips of the crusaders.
The poor Saracen general died outright.

I lifted Durandal and launched my bodyguards attack.
I couldn’t stay like a useless shrub in the field. And I arrived in the top of the hill. The foes were running in all directions, disbanded.

I didn’t need to raise my arm a single time.
No blow, no blood, I’ve quite been a spectator during this battle. I was not very proud of myself.
A bit ashamed, I caught sight of André.

He was alone at the middle of the hill. Standing on his steed, proud of the victory, proud of his victory. I smiled arriving beside him and thanked him for his help.
He replied:
- “It was an honor to fight with you, young prince. My brother has been avenged, and I can rest in peace now. It was my last fight. I am going back in my lands. Some fields, trees, and farms, are waiting for me to be improved.”

I tried to convince him to stay beside me. I would like to learn more from him. But his decision was irretrievably.

I was the winner. It has been a disaster for the enemy. Soldiers were proud of them, and proud of their general. It was more than I could have dreamed.

But I’ve lost a war-friend, and it was the only thing which mattered that time…

It was time to enter Zaragoza now. The celebrations would surely be wonderful…

**la coupe est pleine** · May 26, 2010, 08:53 AM

Iberian Campaign (Part I)
Chapter X : Twist of fate

An de Grâce 1200 AC.
Royaume de France.
Zaragoza.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

I spent the last of the summer in Zaragoza. The weather was nice, and there were a good mix of population. Christians, but also Jewish and Muslims.
Charles was the rightful governor of the city, and he didn’t take time to be loved by the local population. He let the liberty of religion and of culture. Trade was increasing and the city prospered quickly.

The siege was soon forgotten, and the knights were kept busy by fighting some rebels in the region.
Some of my best memories are those spent with Charles, traveling all over the city, learning from the exotic goods, from some scientific Arabic discoveries. It reminded me the time I was learning Archimedes’s physics in the Paris University.
I thought about Michel and Philippe, the king. Maybe they had heard about my last victory, maybe they will send me some message of congratulation.

- “Maybe Louis has also heard about that” I wondered.
And I imagined an evil hawk flying on the Pyrenees, searching for a prey, searching for me. I could have won a crucial and prestigious victory; I stayed the target of the heir. And Louis was not the sort of man to be the enemy.
We were on September. If he still remained in Toulouse, he should wait the next year to cross the mountains. If not, he was on his way, and it was a matter of days.

But something was wrong: we hadn’t received any message of his arrival. I couldn’t understand what was happening in the other side of the Pyrenees. I had no news from France either.
Definitely, something was wrong…

One evening of October, the news arrived: a black knight entered the castle and walked straight forward until me and Charles.
We were planning some hypothetic attack against Pamplona. It was a strategic castle, protecting the west side of the Pyrenees, avoiding us the right to cross them near the sea.
Most importantly, we had neither citadel nor drill square to train heavy troops in the Iberian Peninsula. Pamplona was the last wall, avoiding us to invade the Moorish Caliphate. It was detained by an independent Basque noble. And everyone knows how proud and dangerous the Basques are. Durandal, my sword, knew that.
The count Rolland felt in a Basque ambush, in Roncevaux, in the north of Pamplona. I had a meeting with my fate there. It was written somewhere.

We were talking about that stuff when the black messenger rushed in the room. Everybody looked at him, chatting stopped. He advanced toward me.
-“Philippe?” he asked.
- “Lui-même” I answered, diverted that people now knew my name, since my victorious battle.

And the messenger told me 5 words I will never forget. 5 words more powerful than one thousand spears.
- “Our beloved King is dead!

Dieu ait son âme” he finished in a whisper.

- “Quoi?” I cried. “My father, Philippe Auguste?”

- “Oui, Philippe Auguste died in battle against the Flanders’s army.”

Oh là là, I’ve totally forgotten the Flanders’s invasion, because of Zaragoza situation and all the internal problems to solve after the rescue of the city. Charles glanced at me and I saw in his eyes that he had also forgotten these news. I understood why no news arrived from the Kingdom since so many weeks now.

- “And what happened?” I shrieked “Tell us the entire story! Where is Michel? Where is Louis? Where are those dirty Dutch whores?”
Blood started to rise in my brain and I took Durandal out of my scabbard when Charles stopped me, ordering me to listen.

The messenger told us the black and sad story.
- “Jehanin Maquereau was cutting the retreat of the huge Dutch army with his mercenary’s troops. He would like to start the fight, in order to liberate Paris from the Flanders’s embrace. However, just before he started the battle, our chivalric king left the city with his bodyguards in an attempt to charge the back of the Dutch foes.

Just before the clash, the evil pikemen returned their pikes in an attempt to kill the king, like a peasant, without trying to capture him. They were demons, they didn’t respect the chivalric code and despite Joyeuse and the powerful blows our beloved king inflicted at the enemy, his steed was killed by a sneaky dutch pikemen, before him to be slain like an animal by the foes.
Everyone in the field saw that terrible scene and I remember the smile on the Flander’s count face. The French army decided to wash their sorrow with Dutch blood and they had been all slaughtered. The count has been captured and quartered in front of Notre Dame. But it was too late. Nothing could bring back the life of our sovereign.
The Kingdom is in mourning. And the Pope hasn’t even tried to say a word against the Flanders’s county.
He should be destitute.”

The Pope!!!
This son of whore that Pope Alexander. I was now convinced that he had made a deal with the devil to destroy me. After being responsible for my father death, he was responsible for my adoptive father death. It remained time to blow away this papal menace. And I would be proud to do it. Durandal in my fist.
“Prends garde Alexander, I will be there soon to take care about you”, I angrily thought in myself.

And then I heard the messenger, which I had forgotten to listen for a while, because of Alexander III thought.
- “… and Louis is proclaimed king of the kingdom. He is on his way to reach Paris and claim the crown and sword of Charlemagne.”

All came in my mind in a sudden flow. I understood everything.
Louis couldn’t come in Zaragoza because of the death of the king. Once more, I was saved from Louis’s sword for a while.
Just for a while however because it was clear that he won’t forget me. Most particularly, he was the king now and Joyeuse in his fist. Louis was going to be more powerful than never before, and Philippe couldn’t protect me anymore from his grave.

I should raise some personal spy in order to know what he was expecting to do. Maybe, with a little luck, he could fight against Flanders, forgetting the South.
Maybe…

My fate was still under the sword of probability.
Again and again…

The black messenger suddenly cleared his throat. Seemingly, he hadn’t finished.

He stared strangely at me, with a semi smile, and started to proclaim the least expected:
- “However, the news of what happened in Toulouse, with your betroth Hélène, Philippe, had spread all over the royal court, and some powerful nobles has taken the opportunity to question Louis’s ability to manage the kingdom.”

I was stunned about the fact that someone talked about Hélène. I didn’t know that her rape was known and spread.

The messenger didn’t stop:
- “You have to know that some lords and counts have seen the death of our beloved sovereign as a way to increase their own power, and why not take the control of the kingdom.
Jehanin Maquereau, the war lord who saved Paris, is amongst them. And after his Dutch slaughter, it wasn’t difficult for him to convince the Paris people than Louis, the maid rapper, couldn’t protect them if the Dutch tried to attack again. He said them that he will return to the South, in order to continue his slaughter, better than protecting the French people of the North.
And they believed him. Louis was still in his way and his brother Michel was governing Rheims.
Louis has offended the Nobles and we could expect a civil war soon.

However, when Louis reached Paris, the Nobles made with him and Michel an agreement.
They said that the only thing to stay loyal with the French crown was to elect YOU, Philippe Capet, as the official heir of the kingdom.”
The messenger announced.

Just the second after, before I realized what it meant, he shouted:

- “Gloire au Dauphin, Vive l’héritier, Longue Vie à Philippe. Longue vie…”

The entire audience repeated his words together.
- “Longue Vie à Philippe, Gloire au Dauphin!”.

I was knocked out…

Philippe was killed…
Louis was in a difficult position, the kingdom against him…
And I, the adoptive Arab, was the new heir of the Kingdom…
WHAT? Mon Dieu!

It was far from being all, and I was expected to discover what happens next soon…

I didn’t understand why Michel was not the heir. What happened?

But I remembered suddenly the evil Pope. He was 60 now, not too old. And I was the heir. The power seemed to rise in my hands.
Take care Alexander, I’m coming soon.

The new century, 1200, was starting in a very original way. Everything seemed allowed and my fate changed because of a single message.
What a life!!!

Come on thirteen century, I’m ready to cope. I should say: “I’m pleased to cope…”

I was still stunned by the new, lost in my deep thought, when the black messenger grasp my shoulder with his hand and whispered:
- “The official has been said, let’s talk of the unofficial now, let’s talk about the real things”.

I nodded, surprised again and again by this messenger. And I invited him to come in a quiet and isolated room of the court...

**la coupe est pleine** · May 26, 2010, 09:02 AM

Hello,

I don't know if a lot of people are following this story,
but a funny thing happened, as you probably have already noticed.

Philippe was not supposed to be the heir, because Michel was older than him.
However, the AI decided that Philippe should be the heir.

I was very surprised, and it changed all my plans for this AAR. But I'm very pleased about that, because I could insert a new plot in the story.

Anyway, do you know if it happens often, and why?
I suppose it is because Philippe has done some military studies and won a battle, when Michel stayed in Paris for governor studies, and did nothing more than governing...

Thanks if you are following the story. I would be very pleased to know what are your feelings about my questions, and also the story, if you have some time...

Cheers.

**wvswem** · May 27, 2010, 08:02 AM

Fantastic AAR, I really love to read it. I check the forum every day to see if you have updated. However I don't have an answer to your questions, but sometimes the AI makes strange choices. But in this case it makes for an interesting plot. Keep up the good work

**Kaidonni** · May 27, 2010, 10:47 AM

The heir is determined by Authority. Whoever has the highest Authority becomes the next heir. Of course, I'm not entirely sure what happens when you have two potential heirs and they both have the same level of Authority. This has been studied in-depth, here is a good thread on it: http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...heir+selection.

It's why, in some mods, there are ancillaries that give a big boost to Authority. You usually give this ancillary to the guy you want succeeding your current heir, so when the king finally dies, and your current heir is promoted, the guy with this ancillary should become the next heir (bar any other characters you may have overlooked who have higher Authority from various traits and ancillaries

).

EDIT: On further reading, that thread seems to imply something about the youngest son becoming heir...hmmm. But the Heir Orb idea from some mods has worked fine, so...I dunno. You know these threads, they are all over the place and never agree.

EDIT 2: This thread is perhaps better: http://www.twcenter.net/forums/showt...light=heir+orb.

**la coupe est pleine** · May 27, 2010, 06:26 PM

Originally Posted by wvswem

Fantastic AAR, I really love to read it. I check the forum every day to see if you have updated. However I don't have an answer to your questions, but sometimes the AI makes strange choices. But in this case it makes for an interesting plot. Keep up the good work

Thanks a lot my friend.
Even if I know that there are some followers, to receive messages like that "warm the heart" (sorry, french expression).
I mean that as it is my first writing story, I can't never be sure that it is enjoyable, and it is really nice to know that people like you are ok with my poor skills

.

Kaidonni
Thanks a lot for your researches.
As you said, the ancillaries seemed to have play a great role. Maybe Durandal also. The authority could really be the reason of this funny surprise.
And it would be quite logic in real life...

**la coupe est pleine** · May 30, 2010, 12:54 PM

Iberian Campaign (Part II)
Chapter XI : A new puppet

An de Grâce 1200 AC.
Royaume de France.
Zaragoza.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

I was still shocked about the news, voiceless, when he fixed me and announced calmly:
- “I’m Michel’s messenger.
I suppose you are conscious that it isn’t at all the noble’s will to see you in the throne”.

I nodded, amazed by his sincerity and worried about the next thing he was ready to announce.
I was the new heir of the holy Kingdom of France, but this messenger seemed far more powerful than me, because of the contents of his messages. I realized that I was like a puppet, powerless, waiting for this guy to liberate me.

He kept speaking.
- “It is Michel will if you are now the current heir. He has asked me to announce you his plans”.

I remembered suddenly the old advices Michel told me years ago now:
- “The fate of a kingdom isn’t dealt with battles, but with diplomacy and management of people”

- “Charles, the only son of Louis, who is 15th years old, was supposed to become the rightful heir. It would mean that the power of Michel in the royal family would be lost forever. Michel knew, because of his spies, that he could take the opportunity to manipulate the nobles in order to take the advantage over Louis.
Michel doesn’t trust neither Louis nor his unruly son. He thinks that Louis is a brute fighting without strategy. And he doesn’t want to let the kingdom ruled by a brute.”

I nodded, baffled of the genius of Michel. I still had the image of a friend, but a coward, when I thought about my beloved brother.
This image was done now; Michel appeared to be so powerful and crafty. He was managing the country by his brain. I was suddenly worried about my brother…

The messenger didn’t stopped:
- “Here is the plan. Michel has succeeded to make Louis weak because of the noble’s rebellion threat, and he has forced him to proclaim you as the heir of the kingdom.
By that way, Charles couldn’t claim to be heir anymore, nor king in the future. Louis’s son is the real looser of the game.

And here are your orders.
Michel will advise you about what to do, about how to behave. He has asked me to make clear that he is the real ruler, and that you have to listen at his orders. Be careful not to disobey, because Michel is the only shield which protects you against Louis’s fury.
And you have also to learn that Michel’s spy network is one of the more sophisticated in the Christendom, so I have no need to advise you to take care, and to listen carefully what Michel needs about you.”

It was as if I was stabbed by a hundreds daggers in my back. I was Michel’s puppet. He had betrayed our youth friendship, and I had no choice other to behave according to his will.

The messenger finished:
- “My name is Norbert, and I am charged to send you the messages of Michel.
He just wants you to stabilize the south for the moment. He doesn’t want the south of the Kingdom to put problem.
Indeed, Flanders’s army are still campaigning and devastating the North of the kingdom fields, starving the peasants. More important, another Dutch’s army has just besieged Paris, and the king Louis is still in the Capital.
No doubt that the foes will be slaughtered…”

And Norbert disappeared, letting me alone in the room.

- “I am a puppet!”
I shouted angrily against myself,
- “Let’s see if I will stay the toy of Michel and the other nobles. They will soon understand who I am, and the Pope in the same time.”

Louis was powerless and I was the heir, but it seemed that I was in a worst situation than ever.
Maudit Michel…

I spent the winter in Zaragoza, with my old friend Charles de Bouillon. I explained him the trouble where I was. And this time, he found no solution to help me.
He just said:
- “Let them kill themselves in Paris. The longer you stay away from these plots, the safer you are.”

He should be right.
However, I wouldn’t stay passive. I knew that my fate won’t be earned by waiting, but gain with the edge of my sword. Therefore, I planned the siege of Pamplona for April 1200. The proud citadel and its dissenter people will be French before the summer, or will lie on the floor, for the eternity.

The troops were pleased in Zaragoza. Well paid, well trained, and they could benefit of the good standard of living the city offered to its people.

My strategy was to use the same army than against the Moorish’s.
I knew that the cavalry couldn’t fit for an assault, but this army was the only one of the kingdom which has some confidence in me, since the last victory.

The Pamplona soldiers were said to be skirmishers (They had kept their tradition of cunning warriors since Rolland ambush). I could expect a lot of arrows, javelins and other sharp flying thinks thrown at us.
It is why I personally took care about the armors our soldiers could use. I imported by convoys some mails armor from Toulouse. Fortunately, the East of the Pyrenees was secured by several military check points and no weapons were lost.

The month before the attack, some of our spies told us that they were improving their defenses, and that some English mercenary contingents had been hired to defend the city. They should have had some news about our preparation. I couldn’t count on a surprise effect. But I couldn’t afford to postpone the campaign, because troops were expensive to maintain, even if Zaragoza was a gold eggs hen.

April arriving, we started to march toward the citadel. I was expecting some ambushes. It is why I had hired some experimented scouts, but at the end, it appeared that our army seemed to worry them because we reached Pamplona without receiving a single arrow.

The siege was starting…
and this time, there were no André de Montfort beside me.

I sent some messages to the lord of the citadel. I would like to let them the opportunity to surrender.
The Basque General, named Mendo, replied that I should come to suck his bowls, in order to help him to think at the proposition.
They seemed to be proud. Sadly, we were also proud and confident.

Like an in-experimented leader, I thought I could starve them, and waited until May. It seemed more difficult for us than for them. The supplies were coming from Zaragoza, but slowly, and the weather was warm and dry. My soldiers started to complain about the time lost.
I didn’t know what to do. I’ve learned with André that I should keep my head cool, but I didn’t want to risk a riot.
“The heir of the kingdom with his army on strike”, it would have made laugh even peasants, and I didn’t want to lose my honor.

I was thinking hard under my royal tent when a well-known voice started to speak, behind me. It was Norbert. I guess he should have been a spy before, seeing how easily he could have entered my quarters.
My throat became suddenly dry when I was waiting for his news, or orders…

- “Bonjour Philippe, how is the new heir of the Kingdom?”
He said, irony not hidden in his voice.
- “I can see that you don’t lose time. Well, it’s not bad, and you seem to keep the South of the Kingdom calm and safe in those harsh times for the crown.
Anyway, I’m not here to talk about that.
I’ve better news for you”,
He laughed.

I stayed quiet, without moving. I could expect everything since all the amazing stuff this black guy said to me the last and first time we met. And most particularly, I was expecting the worst.

- “Guess what Philippe?” he asked.

- “Stop”, I shouted, losing my nerves, “you are neither the king, nor Michel. Don’t play with me Norbert.”
I threatened.

- “Oh là là “
He jeers. But he became suddenly serious.
- “Ok Philippe, you know better than me what you could lose if you try anything which hasn’t been decided by Michel, don’t you?
So, let’s stop playing and listen to me.
The first thing is that Louis is still alive, and the Kingdom stay upright and proud.
Another count of Flanders has been quartered in front of Notre-Dame. The problem was that this count was nothing less than Jan Van Vlaanderen, the son of the Dutch’s count.”

Norbert smiled, with Machiavellian eyes.
- “And the other problem is that Louis was on the place this time. No need to describe you what this poor Dutch has suffered before to be quartered.
I think he should have killed himself better than raising his sword against Louis Sans Merci, the “fearful” king of France.
This count thought that he could ambush the king by staying behind one of the Seine’s Bridges. Madness!

Louis and his dismounted axes-knights have opened the slaughter without fearing the Dutch’s pikemen. These poor guys have been carved by the powerful axes, and Louis had also his amount of blood.

Louis seemed indestructible, and his eyes were in fire because he considered those evil Dutch as responsible for the death of his father, for the rebellion he is going to face, for you to become the heir instead of his son.
(Norbert smiled at me again)
He was really blood-thirsty and I don’t think Joyeuse has seen so much blood on its edge since Charlemagne.
I really wouldn’t like to be his enemy”,
He added, keeping his irony against me.

I was frightened about these news. Louis could have been challenged by Michel and the Nobles, but he stayed the fearful warrior he has always been.
What could I do against his strength?
What could do Durandal against Joyeuse?
It is always the same.
I’m still facing a danger more powerful…

Apparently, Norbert hadn’t finished. His disaster bag was not empty…
And I was sure it was a more personal disaster. He couldn’t have come to see me just to talk about Louis.
I clenched my fists and take a huge breath, ready to cope with what should happen…

**wvswem** · May 30, 2010, 02:46 PM

Nice update, interesting twist of affairs of how Michel has become with that spy network.

**la coupe est pleine** · June 01, 2010, 02:16 PM

wvswem,
Thanks for your support.
As you said, Michel entered the game, not in the same way than Louis or even Philippe.
You will learn in the next chapter that he is maybe more powerful than Philippe could imagine...

**la coupe est pleine** · June 01, 2010, 02:39 PM

Iberian Campaign (Part II)
Chapter XII : Alexander and his Crusades

An de Grâce 1202 AC.
Iberian Peninsula.
Pamplona.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Hello mates.
I’m Philippe.
Philippe Capet, adoptive son of the French King. However, my real name is Muhammad Sahadeddine. I’ve been adopted because of an amazing coincidence. I hope to become soon a hero of Chivalry, and help the poor and the orphans.
I know, I’ve read a lot of hero stories, but I’m a dreamer…
I’m 22 years old and I am the Heir of the Kingdom, after the death of my father. I still can’t believe it…
I’ve just decided to besiege Pamplona.

Louis the Merciless.
KING of the Kingdom.
It is my elder “brother”, and the new King of France.
He is a very skilled and fearful warrior. He can be qualified as a “butcher”.
He is my worst enemy since he raped and killed my first love Hélène.
He is now back in Paris, but meet some difficulties with rebel nobles. His authority is very low.

Michel.
It is my second “brother”. He is one year and a half more than me.
We were very good friends during our childhood, but it seems that these happy times are over.
Michel is the new unofficial leader of the Kingdom, because he had managed to use the lords as a tool to take the command of the Kingdom, against Louis. I’m the heir just because of his will.
He is working in the shadows and is potentially more dangerous than Louis himself.

Charles de Bouillon.
Charles was the governor of Toulouse citadel and is now the new governor of Zaragoza.
Charles is my only real “friend”. He likes me and I think I can trust him.
He is not a warrior, but he is a clever leader, knowing a lot in the domain of diplomacy, economy and management.
He has saved me from Louis’s sword.

Philippe Auguste the Chivalrous.
DEAD in battle.
He was my adoptive father, but also the French King.
He loved the Chivalric Code, and enjoyed good tournaments. He was a wise ruler and French people liked him a lot.
He died in battle, against Flanders, trying to defend Paris.

Norbert.
He is the messenger who just taught me the amazing news of the death of my father, and that I’m the new Heir of the Kingdom.
He is the personal spy, and maybe assassin of Michel. He is sending me Michel orders.
I hate him…

Norbert smiled, silently, and began to talk.
“Philippe, you have been awarded of a great honor. Since the news of the Flanders’s heir torture, the Pope doesn’t seem to like very well our Kingdom, and his lord…
Fortunately, he hadn’t seen you ah ah ah!”
Norbert laughed.

I knew clearly that he was thinking about my tanned skin. I didn’t answer to the incitement, it was useless.

“Therefore, he has decided that we should do some effort. I should say, he has asked for the heir of our Kingdom to do some effort.”

I was stunned, what was meaning this bastard?
The bastard Norbert kept speaking.
“The Pope has asked you to raise an army and go in Crusade against Medina, which is owned by the Desert Tribes.”
And he stopped, staring at me, waiting for my reaction…

I was definitely baffled…
What the fu-ck this Norbert! He is sending me unbelievable news, and each time it is more unbelievable. When could he stop that business?

Maybe the next time he will announce me that I’m the hidden son of Genghis Khan, or maybe the new messenger of God.

I didn’t react directly. My brain couldn’t accept what Norbert was meaning.
I, the heir of the Kingdom, should raise a Crusader army to kill at the opposite side of the world some infidels that I don’t even know what the name of their Kingdom is.
I, maybe one of the people who hate the most the Pope for his crusades, should be his representative for achieving his bloody job.

It was the worst joke I’ve ever heard.
Even troubadours of the Kingdom couldn’t tell such an irony story.

I was supposed to fight what I loved, and protect what I hated…
I started to weep slowly, my head between my hands.

It wasn’t tears of sorrow, it was tears of rage. The rage against that bowl sucker of Alexander.
I will find a way to avenge that.

And suddenly, the answer started to light up in my mind. Yeah it was clear.
Clear and powerful.
I left the royal tent, laughing like a fool. Like a furious fool. Staring at the sky, thrown in my knees, and weeping, weeping again and again.
The joy flooding into my corpse.
I was powerful: I had the solution!
From now on, I won’t be the puppet of the world irony, I will be the irony maker, the irony master.

“I will make the Pope slaughtered by his own holy warriors, his own fanatics, his own power.
I will make the Pope slain by himself.”

I had the solution.
It was like the world was suddenly showing how things were moving together. The world was showing me its deep harmony and I could link the strengths with the weaknesses. Issues were interlinked and I was sent the power to manipulate and understand the flow of universe.

That day, the Pope became my puppet. He seemed so weak in his little papal state. And a crusader army seemed so powerful in those dark days of madness, fight and fanaticism.

Norbert was puzzled about my insane reaction. When I recovered my serious, he asked “What are your plans Philippe?”

“It’s alright!” I replied.
“Still a great pleasure to slaughter those infidels. You can announce the Kingdom, the King, the Pope and the World that I am raising a crusader army.”
I was still smiling.

“Good decision. Michel wanted you to do this Crusade. He plans to use that in order to stabilize the Kingdom and the unruly lords.
I wish you good luck and I should come back to see you soon. Try to win your siege before, and stay alive bien sûr”
He laughed a last time before silently disappearing in the camp.

I stayed alone.
This day, the young chivalric and noble knight who was sleeping deep in me died. From now on, I was corrupted forever, because of all the madness living around me since too many years.
Definitely, this world was not created for dreamers and heroes. This world was the shadow of darkness…

Several days later, I started to understand the intelligence power of my dark brother, and how he could manipulate both me and the Pope.
He was the Grand Master of the Temple since the death of Philippe.

And he would like to stabilize the Kingdom, as said me Norbert. He was right, the best thing was to launch a Crusade to achieve the unification of people. And he was right again, I was the ideal target to be sent there.

I was convinced that he had succeeded to influence the old Pope to launch the Crusade. The Grand Master of the Temple is well known for his bribe and spy power, well known for his strength in the Holy Land.
Definitely, Michel shouldn’t have fought too hard to manipulate the Pope.
Now, the Kingdom would surely gather around the King to support him for fighting against the infidels. Michel will be the unofficial but real leader of the Kingdom after that. With Louis and the Nobles opposed and self-annihilated by their struggles.

Moreover, Michel could expect me to be out of the internal affairs of the Kingdom.
Even better, he could expect me to be disgraced if I couldn’t succeed to capture Medina. He could also expect me to be killed during that campaign.

At the best, I would spend there 10 years, if I succeed to win and come back.
Everybody knows that Medina is far in the Muslims lands. The Romans themselves hadn’t succeeded to reach and rule the Holy City. Medina is far in the Desert also.
It was clear that this Crusade was not thought to be succeeded. This Crusade was thought to bury a man, to bury a possible source of power, to bury an enemy.

This Crusade was thought by Michel to get rid of me…

I was stunned by my thoughts, and I agreed that Michel was a genius. A dark one however. And it seemed that I was not anymore his young friend and brother.

Michel…
He was just 24, one year and a half more than me, but already a power in Europe. He was said having lost his hair, because of dark and plot night, I supposed.

However, the thing Michel has forgotten is my hatred for the bastard Alexander, this heretic and lazy Pope, wealthier than never before, lying in the dust all day…

And Michel couldn’t have planned that I could become more cunning than him.
Maybe it was my real fate…

The news of my Crusade spread quickly across the Kingdom. In less than 2 months, knights and nobles, mostly from the South of France, arrived around Pamplona, wanting to join my Crusade. They were coming with their steeds and armors. They were used warriors, fearless, wanting to gain their ticket for heaven.
Others came also. A lot of common warriors, wanting their part of heaven too. It was an important reinforcement because I needed a lot of foot soldiers in order to capture Pamplona, still unruly.

It was the first part of my plan: winning an easy and prestigious victory, thanks to the strength and fanaticism of the holy warriors. This victory will be very important for increasing my reputation of invincible general.
Then, it will be less hard to convince soldiers who have faith in me to walk toward Rome, the “eternal city”. I clearly knew that it was the crucial point: succeeding to convince Pope’s warriors to fight against him. I couldn’t afford to make a single mistake.
Pamplona twinkling victory was supposed to offer me the keys to start the Rome’s final fight.

I was ready and confident. I was thinking so…

**wvswem** · June 02, 2010, 03:06 AM

Love the idea of Philippe to capture Rome under the assumption that he is going on a crusade. It was also nice to see the mission from the Pope in French. Adds a little more realism to it. Do you already know what you are going to do if you manage to capture Rome?

**la coupe est pleine** · June 02, 2010, 05:52 PM

Cheers...

The most funny thing is that even if I had planned since ages to launch an attack against the Papacy, I've never planned than the AI would force (propose) me to do that...

It was an amazing coincidence, and I love that. DLV has a lot of surprises to popose...

For the mission in french, it is because I still play in french (I know it is quite useless

). The major part of DLV scripts are in English, but some (maybe those which weren't changed from the original game) are still written in french.
It is not at all me who have made it in Photoshop.

If I manage to capture Rome, there are a lot of possible things to do. I have my plans, but I prefer to keep them secret for the moment, because the AI can change everything, and because it is better to keep the surprises...

Thanks again for your support

**la coupe est pleine** · June 04, 2010, 09:06 AM

Iberian Campaign (Part II)
Chapter XIII : Steel and blood

An de Grâce 1202 AC.
Iberian Peninsula.
Pamplona.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Hello mates.
I’m Philippe.
Philippe Capet, adoptive son of the French King. However, my real name is Muhammad Sahadeddine. I’ve been adopted because of an amazing coincidence. I hope to become soon a hero of Chivalry, and help the poor and the orphans.
I know, I’ve read a lot of hero stories, but I’m a dreamer…
I’m 22 years old and I am the Heir of the Kingdom, after the death of my father. I still can’t believe it…
I’ve just decided to besiege Pamplona when Norbert taught me that the Pope want me to lead a Crusade to Medina. What a life !!!

Louis the Merciless.
KING of the Kingdom.
It is my elder “brother”, and the new King of France.
He is a very skilled and fearful warrior. He can be qualified as a “butcher”.
He is my worst enemy since he raped and killed my first love Hélène.
He is now back in Paris, but meet some difficulties with rebel nobles. His authority is very low.

Michel.
It is my second “brother”. He is one year and a half more than me.
We were very good friends during our childhood, but it seems that these happy times are over.
Michel is the new unofficial leader of the Kingdom, because he had managed to use the lords as a tool to take the command of the Kingdom, against Louis. I’m the heir just because of his will.
He is working in the shadows and is potentially more dangerous than Louis himself.

Charles de Bouillon.
Charles was the governor of Toulouse citadel and is now the new governor of Zaragoza.
Charles is my only real “friend”. He likes me and I think I can trust him.
He is not a warrior, but he is a clever leader, knowing a lot in the domain of diplomacy, economy and management.
He has saved me from Louis’s sword.

Norbert.
He is the messenger who just taught me the amazing news of the death of my father, and that I’m the new Heir of the Kingdom.
He is the personal spy, and maybe assassin of Michel. He is sending me Michel orders.
I hate him…

Philippe Auguste the Chivalrous.
DEAD in battle.
He was my adoptive father, but also the French King.
He loved the Chivalric Code, and enjoyed good tournaments. He was a wise ruler and French people liked him a lot.
He died in battle, against Flanders, trying to defend Paris.

During the first days of September, my army was doubled by the amount of crusaders warriors. And they were ready to have a first training against those bastards Basques. The rumor has spread that they were more heretics than the Cathars themselves and the holy warriors were just waiting to wash the heresy with rivers of blood.

The second Thursday of September, I ordered soldiers to prepare for the assault. I could clearly see the happiness and the appetite for fight on my soldier’s faces. The sun was shining…
I prepared my armor, praying to sit in Pamplona castle before the end of the day.

Thanks to the Crusaders, I was sure to outnumber the Basques army. However, the problem was that the bulk of my army was compound of mounted knights, extremely powerful but quite useless in the siege of a citadel. I was betting on the crusaders spearmen to be the key point of the battle.

We had built some siege towers, during the months waiting for the attack.
I had sent my orders to the groups generals. We should protect the ram, by the diversion of the wood towers. Then the bulk of the army should enter by the gate, and not by the towers, like our enemies should expect.

I was placed behind my troops, with my bodyguards, and in front of the main gate. I was a little feared about what could happen. I prayed a last time my star to help me winning brilliantly this battle, and I launched the starting signal.

“Aux armes chevaliers! It’s time to kill off this scum of our earth, or to go in heaven by the way.
Montjoie Saint Denis! Allez, à l’attaque.”

Durandal was sparkling under the Iberian Sun. The army roared and started to walk toward the city walls. No way to move back now.
Alea Jacta Est !!!

I could hardly see the enemy soldiers in the top of the walls, but we could hear some orders shouted from there. The bad thing was that we could clearly see the twinkles of an army of sharpened spears dancing there.
The game should be hard for our spearmen, ready to enter the wooden towers and assault the walls. However, I was glad to know that the enemy had sent a lot of warriors in the top of the walls.
It was exactly what I wanted.

The wooden towers were approaching the walls, under a rain of fired arrows, when I sent my second orders.
The spearmen who were pushing the towers suddenly stopped and moved back to join the rest of the army. My crossbowmen rushed behind the wooden towers, which were starting to be fired. At the same time, the ram was pushed by some mailed knights to reach the gates.
The enemy bowmen continued to target the towers, forgetting the ram.

What a mistake!

My protected crossbowmen started to make a cloud of arrow raining on the enemy’s walls, and heads by the way.
Crossbow arrows were not lethal at all, launched like that, but it had the advantage to disorganize the enemy strategy and movement. They weren’t expecting my crossbowmen to aim them. And they stayed on the wall, trying to destroy entirely my wooden towers, forgetting the ram, and another tower in the other side of the citadel.

I suddenly heard some cries near the gate.
The gate was destroyed by our successful ram. What a success!
I was proud of myself. The first part of the plan was a success. Now, the fight could begin.

I raised my Durandal, and rushed to support my spearmen near the gate.

When I arrived, the spearmen were still trying to remove the ram in order to clean the way. I was really excited by starting the fight and I stupidly surged in the citadel, before any of my soldiers, taking the risk to be killed or wounded.
Maybe it was what saved me during this battle...

Indeed, those fuc-king Basques threw boiling oil on the soldiers rushing behind me. Surely they weren’t expected me to surge first and weren’t ready to throw the boiling oil on me. I still remember the cries and screams of my spearmen at my back.

No shield or armor could protect them against that plague. The butchery was beginning…

I reached the inside streets without great fight. The major part of the Basque’s army was still disorganized on the top of the city walls. They tried to rush back and surround me. I saw their cunning movement and I decided to make my way through the soldiers who were remaining in the street.
For the first time since hundreds years, my Durandal saw blood again. I was still in my war steed and I reaped with my bodyguards many foes, defenseless against us.

Despite my fury, I clearly succeeded to distinguish the last wood tower, ready to release a wave of experimented swordsmen in the city walls. The trap was closing around the major part of the enemy, trying to reach me, but chased by the swordsmen.
My plan was successful…

I was delighted, smiling under my headset.

Suddenly, a Basque bastard succeeded to inflict me a severe blow in my hip with his spear. I screamed.
The pain was spreading in my corpse, reaching my mind. Despite the blood in my eyes, I saw the responsible and killed him with Durandal, cutting his back in two separated pieces.
The blood was now flowing under my armor, and each of my movements reminded me my wound, rubbing against the sharp parts.

I ordered my bodyguards to make a circle around me and, gritting my teeth, I continued my bloody way in the middle of the Basque’s foot soldiers, defenseless but still dangerous.
Durandal couldn’t fall down again against those Basques…

It was that time when the crusader knights came on the city. Loads of foes were still defending the streets, foot by foot. I ordered one group of knights to go round the city and launch a back attack behind the enemy spearmen.

Then I saw the Basque’s general: Mendo.
He was fighting with the best of the spearmen, against some of my crusader spearmen. It was a harsh battle. No-one would like to let a single meter to the other. The dead were trampled by the fighters. And I couldn’t try a front attack. My horse would have been spat by the sharp spears.

I was trying to found a solution, because the result of the battle was played there, between 2 city blocks, when I heard a heavy sound. It was the sound of heavy war steed hammering the floor. It was the crusaders knights rushing behind Mendo and his men.
That moment, I knew that the battle was won.

The massacre could start. Mendo spearmen tried to protect their back in a desperate attempt, but the Crusaders were already pushing in their ranks. All was said. The fury of the crusaders crushed Mendo…

Even I, their general, was feared by their strength, fervor, and battle skills. A feeling of devil power seemed to emerge from those holy warriors, when they slaughtered the bodyguards of Mendo. I was wondering if God himself could stop them.
Hopefully, they weren’t my enemies this time.

Hopefully…

Mendo died, and the rest of the battle was just a matter of time. The crusaders, blood-thirsty, didn’t stopped the carnage at this point. They continued to slaughter each enemy fighter, each peasant, and each inhabitant trying to stand in their way.

Half an hour later, I was reaching the dungeon, victorious. Despite my pain, I was triumphant.

My soldiers were acclaiming me.
They saw my blood, they saw my wounds, and in their eyes, a feeling of gratitude and pride was standing. They started to be proud of me this day. Maybe that was the beginning of their loyalty to the heir of the Kingdom.

Pamplona was mine. The citadel was mine.
Michel and Louis could stay in the North, in Paris; the south was my new kingdom from now on. I earned it with Durandal’s edge, and with my blood.

The victory couldn’t be challenged.

Lots of my soldiers died this day, but I knew that twice their number will join me soon, because the Crusade was launched, and because people were starting to have confidence in my glory.

My plan was well played, for the moment…

**la coupe est pleine** · June 14, 2010, 05:04 PM

Iberian Campaign (Part II)
Chapter XIV : Plots, rebellions and masterplans

An de Grâce 1202 AC.
Iberian Peninsula.
Pamplona.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Hello mates.
I’m Philippe.
Philippe Capet, adoptive son of the French King. However, my real name is Muhammad Sahadeddine. I’ve been adopted because of an amazing coincidence. I hope to become soon a hero of Chivalry, and help the poor and the orphans.
I know, I’ve read a lot of hero stories, but I’m a dreamer…
I’m 22 years old and I am the Heir of the Kingdom, after the death of my father. I still can’t believe it…
I’ve just victoriously conquered Pamplona.

Louis the Merciless.
KING of the Kingdom.
It is my elder “brother”, and the new King of France.
He is a very skilled and fearful warrior. He can be qualified as a “butcher”.
He is my worst enemy since he raped and killed my first love Hélène.
He is now back in Paris, but meet some difficulties with rebel nobles. His authority is very low.

Michel.
It is my second “brother”. He is one year and a half more than me.
We were very good friends during our childhood, but it seems that these happy times are over.
Michel is the new unofficial leader of the Kingdom, because he had managed to use the lords as a tool to take the command of the Kingdom, against Louis. I’m the heir just because of his will.
He is working in the shadows and is potentially more dangerous than Louis himself.

Charles de Bouillon.
Charles was the governor of Toulouse citadel and is now the new governor of Zaragoza.
Charles is my only real “friend”. He likes me and I think I can trust him.
He is not a warrior, but he is a clever leader, knowing a lot in the domain of diplomacy, economy and management.
He has saved me from Louis’s sword.

Norbert.
He is the messenger who just taught me the amazing news of the death of my father, and that I’m the new Heir of the Kingdom.
He is the personal spy, and maybe assassin of Michel. He is sending me Michel orders.
I hate him…

Philippe Auguste the Chivalrous.
DEAD in battle.
He was my adoptive father, but also the French King.
He loved the Chivalric Code, and enjoyed good tournaments. He was a wise ruler and French people liked him a lot.
He died in battle, against Flanders, trying to defend Paris.

I stayed in the citadel during the winter, hiring some new warriors, and looking after the casualties. My wound wasn’t so bad and some good doctors helped me to be fit quickly. They said that I shouldn’t fight before the next summer.
It was perfect, my visit in Rome wasn’t planned before.

Some Kingdoms of the Iberian Peninsula sent several personalities in my court in Pamplona, probably because they were impressed about the victories of the French heir. Therefore, some Spanish princesses and some Portuguese diplomats were living in Pamplona. I saw that like good news.

Indeed, the France wasn’t allied with those two kingdoms but they should be interesting friends to stabilize the Peninsula. I didn’t want to go in Crusade leaving my Spanish cities defenseless; the Moorish’s just waiting for a chance.

One of the Spanish princesses was called Clara. Princess was not more than a word because she behaved more like a peasant like a real princess. She was depressive and voracious. Anybody who crossed her in the corridors could see some meat or patisserie in her hands.

However, I quickly understood that she seemed fond of me. Maybe it was a master plan of her father, I firstly thought.
I was wondering if it could be a nice thing to let the things happen. She was a princess, and she could bring the stability of the area, thanks to the probable alliance with the Spanish Kingdom. More particularly, she would bring me the nobility rank that I was trying to achieve.
What could then attempt Louis against me, if I was married with the daughter of the Spanish king? It was like an ideal plan…

Nevertheless, I couldn’t imagine me to stay with that creature. She was so far away from Hélène, who stayed in my mind like the incarnation of beauty and kindness. I decided to keep some strong relation with her, but without advancing further.

Charles de Bouillon had stayed in Zaragoza, and we were frequently exchanging messages to stabilize the area. I was often asking him what was happening in the Kingdom, because Pamplona was located in a remote area. He always replied me the same answer: it seems to be quiet. Louis the King was staying in Paris, with Michel and a lot of nobles.

My Crusade’s army was growing and I was planning to leave the country in April, in order to sail during the good season.

In February, the ships arrived near Narbonne. With Charles de Bouillon, we had rented out them from Italian merchants. I was organizing the citadel defenses when I saw some knights in the countryside, heading to the city. They were four, and the first one was a black knight. Norbert!!!

What would be the news this time? Maybe I will be the son of the Pope this afternoon. Maybe I will be the new King of England. I was smiling with irony when he entered the gate. I walked toward him.
He was not smiling this time.

I started to talk:
“What is the news today?
Is the Kingdom still living in peace and harmony?”

He grumbled:
“Let’s go in the castle, we will be in a better ease to talk.”

I nodded and he followed me.
When we arrived in my private apartments, I asked him:
”Are Michel and the sovereign of the Kingdom happy with the news from the south?
Are they proud of the heir of the kingdom?
Are they proud of the victorious siege of Pamplona?”.
I was voluntarily accentuating my words, in order to show him the power I could represent, in order not to be his puppet like all the time we have met before.

“That’s not the matter.” He replied briefly.
“I’m not there to talk about your personal life. Even if Michel is proud of what you have done. I’m here to talk about the Kingdom. Things are not happening as Michel wants, and he has to be helped.”

“Michel has to helped?” I said with a honey voice. “And what could I do, dear Sir?” I asked.
It seemed that Michel was not as powerful as planned and I was clearly decided to get out while the going is good. I had to take my chance now.

“Let me explain” Norbert said, glancing at me, with an apparent unease.
“Charles Capet, the son of the King Louis, who was stolen his heir title by you, was sent months ago in the citadel of Metz, by his father. Louis would like his son to learn how to be a warrior as him, and maybe how to be a good heir… if bad things happened to you”.
Norbert whispered with an evil smile.

“Charles Capet is just 17 years old, but in reality, he is already dangerous.
After 5 months spent in the Metz’s castle, he decided to make a rebellion since the citadel. He succeeded to corrupt and bribe the garrison. Michel tried to make him an ally but this young fool thought he was strong enough to provoke his father.
He thought that his father had intentionally deprived him to be the heir of the kingdom. He thought Louis had decided on his own to make YOU the heir, instead of him.”

Norbert laughed saying that, but he quickly became serious and started again.

“The problem is that he succeeded to convince some nobles to walk with him. Some important nobles…
Michel didn’t succeed to stabilize the situation, and from now on, the Kingdom has entered a rebellion phase.

Some Grand Compagnies of mercenaries have already started to ruin the fields, and peasants are rioting against the local authorities. The Kingdom has entered some difficult times.
You obviously can’t see it here because the news hadn’t spread in the Peninsula yet, but it is a matter of time.”

I started to smile.
“Michel is trapped at his own game so, isn’t he?”.

Norbert sniggered.
“Not really Philippe, not really. The thing is that Louis is still powerful and he succeeded to capture his son Charles, with the help of some loyal generals. Louis could have killed him, if he wasn’t his only son; the only remain of his royal blood.
Killing Charles would have meant to let you the way free to become the rightful heir, and everybody knows that you are not the best friend of the King.

After the capture of Charles, Louis brought him in Paris. Everybody in the capital was expecting Louis to reconcile his child. However, Louis started to build a dungeon near the Louvre’s castle, in front of the Seine.

When the dungeon was finished to be built, Louis sent some messengers in each corner of the Capital, but also in each wealthy city of the North of France. These messengers explained that the King has imprisoned in the tower his son.
The messengers also explained that only Charles could expect such a mercy, because he was the son of the King, but that everyone who dare to revolt or rebel against the Kingdom will be impaled, even the nobles. Louis was expecting to spread “La Terreur” in the kingdom.

But it wasn’t enough…

Mercenaries were still devastating the harvests, and peasants rioting against the authority. Some dukes and barons tried to ally themselves in order to menace the Kingdom.
It is there that Michel needs you”.
Norbert added.

“Here we are” I thought in my mind.

“Michel wants you with your crusade’s army to come in the North of France for a while and stabilize the countryside, annihilating the Grand Compagnies, and showing people the strength of the French’s armies.
Then, you could return in Crusade.”
Norbert finished, staring at me with confidence in his eyes.

I thought quickly. Where was my advantage to come in the North?
Surely, I would lose time, and maybe also losing troops during fights and skirmishes against rebels. Most particularly, I would help Michel and Louis. There were only drawbacks doing that.

“I will think about that” I replied, warily.

Norbert fixed me, suspiciously.
“You have no other choices Philippe. Remember that Michel is your only shield against Louis and the hordes of assassins. Remember… and never forget that.”

“I am going to take my decision before tomorrow”.
I said, with an assertive voice.
“It’s all for today”, I finished, fixing Norbert.

“As you want,” he replied, angrily, “I will be there tomorrow morning” and he left the room without a gaze.

I stayed alone, lost in my thoughts.
My purpose was to slain this bastard Pope Alexander. If I do that, will Michel still protect me? For sure not, I would be far too dangerous for him at this point.
Thereby, he will probably declare me as the main target for his assassins, and will by the way also try to raise the people mind against me.
Quickly, I could expect him to declare me “the bastard Sarasin, murderer of the Papacy”. I could even expect the entire Christendom seeing me as the devil in Earth.

Therefore, why to help Michel, if I’m sure he was going to do that?
No way, I prefer to keep all my chances to slaughter Alexander, even if I have to lie.
The honor can’t remain when my enemies are moving in darkness and shadow.

Moreover, these personal thoughts advised me to find a protection if I wanted to stay alive after the “crime” I was ready to commit.
Here was Clara, the bulimic Spanish princess. The creature!
I have to force me marrying her to save my back, as long as I can. No way would I have children with her, I will just let her in the Peninsula, when I will board on the ships to sail toward Rome.

Ah ah!!!! What a MasterPlan…

**la coupe est pleine** · June 18, 2010, 02:54 PM

Iberian Campaign (Part II)
Chapter XV : Marriage

An de Grâce 1203 AC.
Iberian Peninsula.
Zaragoza.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Hello mates.
I’m Philippe.
Philippe Capet, adoptive son of the French King. However, my real name is Muhammad Sahadeddine. I’ve been adopted because of an amazing coincidence. I hope to become soon a hero of Chivalry, and help the poor and the orphans.
I know, I’ve read a lot of hero stories, but I’m a dreamer…
I’m 23 years old and I am the Heir of the Kingdom, after the death of my father. I still can’t believe it…

Louis the Merciless.
KING of the Kingdom.
It is my elder “brother”, and the new King of France.
He is a very skilled and fearful warrior. He can be qualified as a “butcher”.
He is my worst enemy since he raped and killed my first love Hélène.
He is now back in Paris, but meet some difficulties with rebel nobles. His authority is extremely low.

Michel.
It is my second “brother”. He is one year and a half more than me.
We were very good friends during our childhood, but it seems that these happy times are over.
Michel is the new unofficial leader of the Kingdom, because he had managed to use the lords as a tool to take the command of the Kingdom, against Louis. I’m the heir just because of his will.
He is working in the shadows and is potentially more dangerous than Louis himself.

Charles
It is the only child and son of the king Louis the Merciless.
He was supposed to be the rightful heir but because of Michel plans, I’ve stolen him the title. He should be very angry…
Maybe because of that, he decided to be a rebel in order to steal his father’s crown, and had finally been thrown by Louis in the Paris dungeon. He is just 17th and begun the life in a sad way.

Charles de Bouillon.
Charles was the governor of Toulouse citadel and is now the new governor of Zaragoza.
Charles is my only real “friend”. He likes me and I think I can trust him.
He is not a warrior, but he is a clever leader, knowing a lot in the domain of diplomacy, economy and management.
He has saved me from Louis’s sword.

Norbert.
He is the messenger who just taught me the amazing news of the death of my father, and that I’m the new Heir of the Kingdom.
He is the personal spy, and maybe assassin of Michel. He is sending me Michel orders.
I hate him…

Philippe Auguste the Chivalrous.
DEAD in battle.
He was my adoptive father, but also the French King.
He loved the Chivalric Code, and enjoyed good tournaments. He was a wise ruler and French people liked him a lot.
He died in battle, against Flanders, trying to defend Paris.

The day after, I met Norbert in the same room. I kindly said I accepted to move my army to the North of France. I will do that in April, waiting for the snow in the Pyrenees to disappear (What a good excuse isn’t it?).
He replied that it was fine, and that he will stay beside me.
I was very disappointed when he said that because I wouldn’t let him to prevent me for doing my “Alexander crime”. I succeeded to stay fine and he seemed to believe me.
Anyway, I will find a way to get rid of him the sooner the better.

Norbert stayed in the castle, and my walks with Clara were more regular than never before. I should be quick. I had just one month free to court her and marry her. It was so hard for me to stay listening to the creature, to stay watching the disgusting patisseries she was gulping down.

She seemed to like me a lot. I don’t know why?
Maybe she was fond of chivalry and knights tales. It was the only things I was talking with her, the only things which can help my mind escape the view of her.

After two weeks of “court”, I sent her a wonderful poem, written by some of my best troubadours. It was question of love, passion, chivalry, and patisseries. She should like it. And she did.

I was leaving my apartments when I saw her, running in the corridor toward me, the poem in her right hand. She was crying like a hysterical animal. I failed to flee looking at that dreadful scene, but I succeeded to stay, waiting for the impact.
Blam!
She hugged me and I missed to fall on the floor. Then, she suddenly tried to kiss me. I couldn’t afford her to do that, thinking of all the nightmares I was expected to do then. I kept her one meter away from me and said, proudly:
“Mon amour, never before the marriage! You know as me that our love should enlighten our two Kingdoms, so that people would see us like the Saint couple. Let’s be as chivalric as we could do, and God will bless us with joy, children, and surely the best bakers.”

She nodded, and said:
“Philippe, suenaba en tu todas las noches, eres mi amor, para siempre!”

“Well, I’m so pleased about that”.
I replied, totally worried about her deep love.
“However, do you know the feelings of your father about the diplomatic part of our union? Could he be ready for an alliance with the Kingdom of France?”

“Estoy seguro. It was his plan. He was counting on my charm to establish the alliance.”
She laughed, stupidly.

“Magnifique,“ I exclaimed, “What do you think about organizing the marriage the next week, in the cathedral of Zaragoza?”

“Vamos a Zaragoza!” she replied, tears of joy flowing in her cheeks.

“I will prepare each detail, my dear love. You can go back to your apartments and I will advise you what to do.”
I finished.

I rushed in my apartments. Time was counted now. I sent a messenger to see the King of Spain and ask him the hand of the princess Clara, and invited him to come to Zaragoza.
I also asked Charles de Bouillon, my old friend, to prepare the marriage.

Two days later, just before to move to Zaragoza, Norbert surged in front of me. He behaved like a furious man.
“What are you expecting to do Philippe? You are going to marry the princess? We have had no talk about it. Don’t do that.” He menaced me.

“And what after?”I replied, increasing my voice.
“I’m in love, and this alliance is just what France needs: to stabilize the area. It is what Michel wants, isn’t it? To stabilize the Kingdom.
Moreover, I’m going to the North to help him with my army, so the south will be defenseless, and this is the only way to preserve Zaragoza, Pamplona and even Narbonne from the Moorish. I’m right. And no messenger, even a black one from Michel, could stop me from doing that.”

His head was red of furor.
“You have won this battle Philippe, but be careful, the war has just started.”
He replied, before to turn back and disappear.

“What war?” I laughed at him.
“Who are you to provoke the heir of the kingdom and the son of the King of Spain? Who are you Norbert?”

But he didn’t reply. He had already left in the darkness.

In Zaragoza, the marriage was brilliant, I succeeded to keep away from my “wife” as long as I could, and the King of Spain was there to assess our union. People were happy because they knew that the alliance would implement an era of peace, of developed and wealthy trade.
Even the Pope sent a cardinal to bless the marriage.
Ah ah, thanks Alexander, my sword will thank you soon, in return.

The evening after the marriage, Clara would like me to sleep with her but I managed to avoid that pain, pretending that it wasn’t possible before Easter. She agreed but I could feel she doubted of something.
The king of Spain didn’t care at all about that. The alliance was all which matter for him. Indeed, the Moorish were trying to unify their Caliphate and siege Cordoba.

A thing I haven’t planned was that the Kingdom of Spain was allied with the Danes. The Danes were at war with the French, even if they hadn’t tried anything against us. Therefore, the Danes decided to stop the war and it was a double victory.
My marriage was finally a little breakthrough in the Christendom alliance scheme.

Clara, my “wife”, could look like a creature, but was however not less than one of the descendant of the legendary king Alphonso VI, one of the founders of the Spanish Kingdom and dynasty.
I was a real noble now. My power was at its height, and I was ready to cross the iron with the Pope…

I was 23. I was the heir of the Kingdom. I felt like the king of the world. Everything seemed possible. My fate was in my hands, but I should work with my head, and I knew that.

The preparation of the army was working well. A lot of soldiers were already near Narbonne, and Norbert couldn’t know that I planned to use the ships rented. He was thinking I would have no use of them because of the long walk toward the North of the Kingdom.
Just before the end of Easter (fortunately because Clara was waiting forward the end of the Holy period, to share more than a hand with me…), I decided to leave Zaragoza…

**la coupe est pleine** · June 22, 2010, 01:17 PM

Italian Campaign (Part I)
Chapter XVI : A new adventure

An de Grâce 1203 AC.
Iberian Peninsula.
Zaragoza.

Aide memoire:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Hello mates.
I’m Philippe.
Philippe Capet, adoptive son of the French King. However, my real name is Muhammad Sahadeddine. I’ve been adopted because of an amazing coincidence. I hope to become soon a hero of Chivalry, and help the poor and the orphans.
I know, I’ve read a lot of hero stories, but I’m a dreamer…
I’m 23 years old and I am the Heir of the Kingdom, after the death of my father.
I am just leaving Zaragoza to meet my fate in Rome.

Louis the Merciless.
KING of the Kingdom.
It is my elder “brother”, and the new King of France.
He is a very skilled and fearful warrior. He can be qualified as a “butcher”.
He is my worst enemy since he raped and killed my first love Hélène.
He is now back in Paris, but meet some difficulties with rebel nobles. His authority is extremely low.

Michel.
It is my second “brother”. He is one year and a half more than me.
We were very good friends during our childhood, but it seems that these happy times are over.
Michel is the new unofficial leader of the Kingdom, because he had managed to use the lords as a tool to take the command of the Kingdom, against Louis. I’m the heir just because of his will.
He is working in the shadows and is potentially more dangerous than Louis himself.

Charles
It is the only child and son of the king Louis the Merciless.
He was supposed to be the rightful heir but because of Michel plans, I’ve stolen him the title. He should be very angry…
Maybe because of that, he decided to be a rebel in order to steal his father’s crown, and had finally been thrown by Louis in the Paris dungeon. He is just 17th and begun the life in a sad way.

Clara
It is my official wife. She is the daughter of the Spanish King and thanks to that marriage, I’m now considered as a real noble and I’m a little more protected against the anger of Louis.
She is definitely ugly and I absolutely don’t want to sleep with her.
The problem is that she deeply love me.

Charles de Bouillon.
Charles was the governor of Toulouse citadel and is now the new governor of Zaragoza.
Charles is my only real “friend”. He likes me and I think I can trust him.
He is not a warrior, but he is a clever leader, knowing a lot in the domain of diplomacy, economy and management.
He has saved me from Louis’s sword.

Norbert.
He is the messenger who just taught me the amazing news of the death of my father, and that I’m the new Heir of the Kingdom.
He is the personal spy, and maybe assassin of Michel. He is sending me Michel orders.
I hate him…

Philippe Auguste the Chivalrous.
DEAD in battle.
He was my adoptive father, but also the French King.
He loved the Chivalric Code, and enjoyed good tournaments. He was a wise ruler and French people liked him a lot.
He died in battle, against Flanders, trying to defend Paris.

I saw a last time Charles de Bouillon, the man who saved me several years ago. I let him the title of Iberian Peninsula Ruler. I sent him some heavy units of warriors, because some Basque rebels remained near Pamplona, and because the Moorish could try to attack. I smiled at him and could see in his old eyes the heavy weight of the past. He was old, and knew that it was the last time we surely met together.

Clara arrived at that moment, and cut the conversation.
“Que pasa, philippe? Why are you leaving the city so soon? I’m going with you.”

Charles glanced at me, smiling, and left wishing me all the best, and all the worst for my enemies.

I replied.
“But, my love, I’ve no choice, even the Pope has ordered me this Crusade. I’ve no time to waste. The Kingdom is in rebellion and I have to clean that, before to walk toward Medina. I will write you poems each day, be assured of my loyalty and deep love to you.”

“Pero Philippe”, she started to weep.
“When could I see you again? I’ve no baby to carry… What are my hopes to melt your blood with mine?”

I glazed at her, trying to feel sad, even if I was totally delighted.
“Maybe in ten years mon amour. I know that it is a long time, but I’m confident in your loyalty. I know that you will wait for me in this castle until my come back.
I will think about you in all my dreams. When I will come back, I will be stronger and more prestigious than never before. You will be proud for having waited all those years, because you will be the wife of the rightful defender of the Christendom. You will be the wife of the holy and chivalric knight. You will be the queen of the Kingdom of France.”
I finished, succeeding to make my eyes wet.

She was definitely convinced of my love.
“Oh mi amor!” she sobbed “I could be so old when you will return than we would have no hope for a child, for an heir to the Kingdom.
Isn’t it a loss?
I’m ready to breed children. I want one of your children deep in my belly. I want to see your look in his eyes. Let’s try to have a child before your departure. Please Philippe, te quiero…!”
She was lying below my knees, waiting for love.

I was disgusted. I could understand she wanted to make love, but I wasn’t fitted for that. I couldn’t do that, it was too difficult.
However, her speech about my son, about the new heir of the Kingdom made me hesitating. Why not to try? Nobody will die…
I glanced at her, weighting the advantages and the drawbacks.

She was sobbing again. I felt her wet tears on my legs. It seemed viscous…
No way!
I turned my head, helped her to stand up, and whispered.
“I can’t do that my dear. Easter is not done and it would be a crime. I don’t want to go to evil for a try. I don’t want to make you eternally burnt by the fire of the devil because of a hypothetic heir.
And what about if it was a girl, eh?”

She screamed.

“Wait for me Clara, I will come back as soon as possible”. I added, leaving the castle to join the head of my army.

Then, like a fury, she pointed at me and cried:
“You will repent it Philippe. Believe me, you will repent it. You have made me falling in love with a bastard, with a dirty swine…”

I suddenly came back and slapped her with my leather glove. She fell in the floor because of the strength of the slap.
“Who are you Clara. I love you and you insult me in front of my soldiers. You make me sad. It is the last time I see you before a long crusade and you behave like a whore. I hope you will learn before my return how to be a nice wife. Be careful Clara. I’m forgiving this time, but it is the last one.
Be careful Clara.”
And I came back to my troops, abandoning her in the floor.

I jumped in my war steed, and launched the order for the walk toward Narbonne. The noise of the horses’ hoofs was loud but I clearly heard Clara: “Be damned dirty swine. Be sure that the King of Spain will know how you consider his daughter, be sure bastard…”

Anyway, I was on my way to Narbonne. I was on my way to Rome…

It took us two weeks to join Narbonne. I asked Norbert to go to Toulouse and try to have some news in order to know where to go first in France. He clearly refused at the beginning. But I tried to convince him doing that, because I was resupplying my troops in Narbonne, and because it was because of him I delayed my crusade.
He was extremely suspicious but he was also waiting to know the news and the new orders of Michel. He left one morning, ordering me to stay in Narbonne until his return.
I could hardly hide my smile of pleasure when I wished him “bon voyage”.
The last stick in my wheel was leaving the town, heading to Toulouse.

Be careful Alexander, nobody could divert me from you now…

I ordered to load the ships with the troops. After two days, it was nearly completed. I was exhausted when I went to bed. Exhausted but delighted.

The next morning, the sky was blue, without any clouds, and the wind was blowing toward the East, toward Rome. It was perfect.
But everybody knows that perfect times can’t last long. It was right…

A messenger surged from Zaragoza. I knew him. It was Charles de Bouillon’s messenger. He rode toward me and cried: “the Italians have betrayed us and are besieging some of our harbors in the South”.

“What?” I shouted, “Those bastards Lombard are near there…”
It was a very bad news. They could become a problem if we meet them in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. Our ships weren’t war ones. We couldn’t match them and it will be the end of a dream.
Anyway, they couldn’t know that we are planning to reach Rome. I should take my chance and with a little of luck, we could pass throw the mesh. We should pass throw…

“And it isn’t all” the messenger continued. “The army that you let near Pamplona has betrayed us in the same time. They are now fighting for the germans.”

“Foucaud?” I asked, stunned by the news.

“Yes, this bastard general has turned his coat and could try to capture Pamplona, left defenseless now.” The messenger replied.

“Non !!” I shouted.
I had my entire confidence in Foucaud, one of the best general I’ve met during the battles I’ve fought. And this rat was now fighting for the Germans. They should have paid him a lot of money for that. Maybe they are trying to implement a sneaky plan in my back.

I ordered the messenger to go back to Zaragoza and ask Charles de Bouillon to organize the defense of the town and citadel as soon as it is possible. I couldn’t walk back now. It was too late.

I ordered the fleet to start sailing. The coin was thrown, my fate waiting behind the quiet waves of the Mediterranean Sea.
I remember seeing the French coast disappearing.
Who knows what would happen there during my absence? Would it stay French? Would it become German or Spanish?
I had let lots of enemies in the mainland. The sea seemed to remain the only part of the Earth were I was still safe.
I prayed the Italians snakes to stay away from us.

The wind became my master, and I let all my strength in his hands. Durandal was my only friend now, and my fist tightened the hilt, uselessly…

**la coupe est pleine** · June 25, 2010, 05:07 PM

Italian Campaign (Part I)
Chapter XVII : Lies and persuasion

An de Grâce 1203 AC.
Mediterranean Sea.
On the admiral cog.

Current world...

Aide memoire:

Hello mates.
I’m Philippe.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Louis the Merciless.
KING of the Kingdom.
"Brother"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Michel.
"Brother"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Charles.
"Nephew"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Clara.
"Wife"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Charles de Bouillon.
"Friend"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Norbert.
"Michel spy"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Philippe Auguste the Chivalrous.
DEAD in battle.
"Father"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

The crossing of the Mediterranean Sea took us 4 weeks.
We stopped in Corsica. Some of my generals would like to launch an attack there and make profit of our powerful army but I preferred to keep my strengths in great shape.
Before that moment, nobody apart for me knew that we would disembark in the Papal state. I was aware that it was maybe the most difficult part of the plan: to convince the Crusaders to fight against their spiritual father.
Maybe most difficult than killing the swine Alexander himself…

During the first part of our shipping, I constantly feared the Milanese’s fleet, but I also took the time to observe the behavior of my generals. All of them had fought with me in Pamplona, and the major part near Zaragoza.
I was conscious that they were confident in my command knowledge and should be loyal. But it was hard to expect their reaction when I would tell them the truth.

One of them, Olivier de Bézier, a small nobility warrior from the South of France, was 24 years old, like me. He seemed to be the smartest of them in my opinion. He was the man who commanded the unit of Crusaders who went round the Basque General Mendo in Pamplona. He fought brilliantly and seemed to share high values of honor. He was well respected by his peers.
I knew that if I succeeded to convince him, it would be easier to make the other generals my allies. But the question was: How to go round his chivalric code of honor, and persuade him that the Pope is the real devil in this Earth?

Few days before arriving in Corsica, I asked him to join me during my dinner. We started talking about common things. How was the moral of the soldiers? Does the war steeds were still in good health? What were the weather forecasts?
However, after a while, I asked him:
“Olivier, I’m sure you are conscious that we are not making the usual way to go to the Holy Land, isn’t it?”

He didn’t reply instantly. He fixed me calmly, but seriously. He took a deep breath and said: “Well, I and my men are aware that it should be easier to sail toward Sicilia. The Royaume de Sicile is an old friend and should be happy to provide shelter for our Crusader fleet.
Men are thinking that you would enjoy capturing Ajaccio before, and they are quite glad about that, because they are fighter before to be Crusaders. Moreover…”

I stopped him.
“Olivier, what do you think? What are your deep thoughts? Let’s drop out the official talks. I want to know your own feelings, not your men’s…”

He glazed at me, once again, but that time, I could see in his eyes some sparkles. He knew that I was ready to explain him some secrets, and he was wondering how to behave. He was wondering which side to choose.
It made me pleased because I could deduce that he feared me a little, and that nobody knew my secret plan.
“D’accord,” he replied softly,
“I personally don’t think you want to capture Ajaccio. There is no need for that and it would be a bad strategy. We would lose men in battles, and also to maintain the area French. It would easily divide by two our strength. And it would mean the end of our hopes of victories against the infidels.”

I was puzzled by his maturity. He had thought about things I hadn’t. I was a little angry against me. However, I encouraged him to continue.

“Eh bien,” he said,
“if we sum up, it would be a madness to capture Ajaccio, and everything should urged you to sail toward Sicily. But you are not.
I fought with you my lord, and I also saw your leading and managing competences. It’s why I consider you are not mad at all.”
Olivier stopped, fixing me, and finally whispered:
“It’s why I consider you have another plan for this Crusade army.”

Well done Olivier. He was really as clever as I expected, maybe more. I asked him:
“Very good analyze mon ami, and what are you expecting me to do? What are you expecting me to do?”

Olivier seemed suddenly embarrassed. He could understand that I had some secret plan, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.
“I really have difficulties to forecast anything”, he confessed.
“Maybe there is the opportunity to fight against those bastards of Milanese’s. But the problem is that we could reach their harbors and coastal cities, but never make a threat for them. They are known to be powerful, and their heart is in Milan, far away from the Sea. We couldn’t expect any surprise effect.
And I really doubt you want to try anything against the Royaume de Sicile. It would be completely insane.”
He stopped there, waiting for me enlighten the darkness.

“Très bien, excellent”, I congratulated him.
“I am going to tell you some little story, and it will help you to understand better.
Since my youth in Paris, I remember my dad: Philippe the Chivalrous. He was the perfect king each Kingdom would have loved to be ruled by. He tried to help the poor. He built hospitals in lots of French cities. Philippe tried to maintain the peace in the Kingdom. He succeeded until the evil Flanders attacked us.
He was faithful and raised cathedrals in the Kingdom. He helped the Templar’s order to expand and increase.
To sum up, he was a living Saint. And he was slain by the Flanders soldiers, when he was trying to defend his land, his capital, his people…”

I stared at Olivier. He was listening, and seemed to agree with my speech. It was time to be more persuasive now.
I took a breath and shouted, my voice filled with anger:
“Has anyone in the Christendom tried to raise one finger to condemn this monstrous crime? Nobody!
Has any cardinal tried to denounce the Flanders attacks against a peaceful kingdom?
No-one!
Has the Pope himself tried to help our Kingdom, or to honor the memory of Philippe?
No!
Has he simply had a single talk about it?
No, no and never.”

I was furious now, and Olivier kept his calm but he was drinking my words. I decided to launch the last attack.
“Our Kingdom of France had still been the rightful son of the Papacy. Since Clovis, and Charlemagne, we have walked and fight together with the Christendom. Our ancestors had sent their lives to honor this alliance.
And what happened now?
What is the Joke?
The best King France has been blessed since Charlemagne can be slaughtered, and even quartered, without a single word of the Pope!!!
Who is this Alexander?
Who is this beggar?
Who is this criminal who let the Evil Dutch rule the law of cruelty in Europe?”

Olivier stood up suddenly when I pronounced the name of Alexander. It was like a sting woke him up.
“Alexander, our Pope?
Sir, are you assuming that we are sailing to Rome? Is it your plan?”

He was like a wild boar in desperate. Definitely, he shared my views about Philippe. However, the awareness of fighting against the Pope, his spiritual father, was like doing incest. A natural law seemed to lock his mind and his movement.
It was time to kill the boar.

I stood up, raising Durandal out of its scabbard, pointing the sword to the sky, and asserted:
“News have broken that the Pope Alexander had asked himself for the Dutch to attack our Kingdom. Our best spies are categorical. Alexander didn’t want our Kingdom to expand. He wants our Kingdom to wilt, to be torn apart by Flanders, the Milanese, and those piggy English. Those miserable merchants Kingdoms had made a secret treaty and sent huge amount of money to the Pope. They have bribed him to be assured of behaving with impunity in our holy Kingdom.
They want to steal our lands, rob our goods, rape our wives and children, and erase the word France of the books and memories.

All of that because of a crooked Pope. All of that because of a devil hidden under pontifical clothes.
Time is counted and we have the opportunity to cut off this conspiracy.

We have to choose between a Pope and a Kingdom.
You have to choose between a fat and corrupted puppet and your land and family.

Don’t make a mistake Olivier…
“

I sat in my chair, exhausted, Durandal still in my fist.
Olivier was pale. He seemed totally dazed by what he just had heard. After a couple of seconds, he turned his sight on me. He was weighting my arguments. He was weighting his trust on me.
I knew that his decision could trigger the start of the campaign, or stop any further action. I knew that my fate was played in his mind, in the brain of a little noble.
What irony!

Gathering my last strength of persuasion, I glanced at him, with a sad sight:
“Do you know why we are the only Kingdom to answer his Crusade to Medina? Do you know why Olivier?
He has ordered me to go there. He knows that Medina is far in the Desert, far in the Muslims lands, far, far away from France. He knows that the last part of France which remained stable, the South, will see its strengths disappear in that folly.
Let’s be serious Olivier, this Crusade is a non-sense. Alexander knows it. He just wants the last strengths of France, the last young warriors and nobles to be mowed by the swords, the diseases and the waves.
We are the last shield of France Olivier. We are the last breath of our Kingdom.”

Olivier suddenly walked toward me, his face now tough. I raised my head. He stopped in front of me, fixing me in the eyes.
He had embers in them.
He put his right hand on my shoulder and proclaimed:
“Philippe, you are the rightful heir of the Kingdom and I believe you. It’s hard to admit but everything seems to prove that this Pope is no less than the responsible of the mess France is struggling with. This Pope can’t remain in Rome.
We have to replace him as soon as possible. Let’s sail to the eternal city!
“

I smiled, eased and pleased. I strongly thanked Olivier. I said he won’t be forgotten for his trust and courage. I carefully advised him to speak with the other generals, without telling a word to the soldiers. I was confident in the charisma and prestige of Olivier to easily convince his peers, the other Crusader generals of my army.
He was a best warrior than me. He was known to be loyal and chivalric all his life. He was famous. He was the right man I needed to achieve my goal.

Sorry for lying to you Olivier. Sometimes, the real truth should use the way of cheat to remain alive.

My truth was that Alexander was responsible for the death of thousands of innocents…

**la coupe est pleine** · June 28, 2010, 05:50 PM

Italian Campaign (Part I)
Chapter XVIII : « No way to come back ». Walk or die !

An de Grâce 1203 AC.
Italian Peninsula.
The beach.

Current world...

Aide memoire:

Heroes...

Hello mates.
I’m Philippe.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Louis the Merciless.
KING of the Kingdom.
"Brother"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Michel.
"Brother"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Charles.
"Nephew"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Clara.
"Wife"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Charles de Bouillon.
"Friend"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Norbert.
"Michel spy"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Philippe Auguste the Chivalrous.
DEAD in battle.
"Father"

Spoiler Alert, click show to read:

Olivier did his duty perfectly. In no less than four days, even the most faithful of our general was persuaded of the duplicity and hypocrisy of the swine Alexander.
These veteran warriors were aware than the Kingdom stability had disappeared long times ago and admitted that it was the entire fault of the Pope. Fortunately for me, they loved their country and family better than their spiritual leader. The soldiers were kept out of the secret until we reached Corsica.

One day after the landing, I gathered the entire army in the beach. I started a long speech in order to convince them. I used the same arguments than those I told to Olivier. The soldiers were totally puzzled and glancing at their generals. They saw the trust in their eyes. As a horde of sheep, they begun to think I was right and they persuaded each other about the truth of the Pope’s betrayal. Better, they found some new arguments to give support of their opinion.
They were ready.
My army was ready to fight the Pope…

Let’s go to achieve my youth dreams of revenge…

After resupplying in Corsica, we sailed straight to the Papal States.
We reached them in the beginning of May. At that moment, no-one in Europe could have known that this army wasn’t a crusader one anymore.
No-one was expecting our landing in the Italian coast. The landing was a success and it took us just 2 days to disembark all the men, weapons and supplies.

Soldiers were eager to fight, eager to avenge our Kingdom and to restore the equilibrium of the Christendom. The news of our landing spread quickly in the Italian Peninsula. I ordered the start of the walk toward Rome.

We had hardly walked for half an hour when a messenger from the rear guard rushed to see me.
- “My lord”, he said, “Our fleet is attacked, by Egyptian galleys”.

I turned back and saw a huge fleet surrounding ours, blocked in the harbor. We had no catapults or even bowmen to help our Admiral, Aubert, and try to fire their galleys. Those cunning infidels started to launch some flamed missiles, and it seemed to be a complete disaster for our poor French sailors, defenseless.

I was contemplating the scene, powerless. My soldiers were doing so, and every Crusader was filled with anger. Some tried to reach the beach, but they quickly understood that there was no possibility to help our friends, trapped. We were just hopping that these Egyptians bastards would try to disembark after the naval battle.

However they didn’t do it. They tried to sink all our cogs, but fortunately, some of them succeeded to do so. I clearly saw the Admiral vessel fighting to protect the fleet of some French ships, before to turn back and flee toward the South. Fortunately, the wind was strong and the galleys couldn’t chase the remains of our fleet.

It was a crushing defeat.

I shouted.
- “Soldiers, friends, proud French, be sure that we won’t forget this cowardly attack on our defenseless friends. We first have to achieve our goal in Rome and protect our Kingdom. But I can promise you that these Egyptians will soon become our target.
We have no way to come back now.
We have no way to renounce.

We have to walk straight to Rome.
Let’s go my friends, let’s teach the swine Alexander what the right way to love God is.
Let’s go my friends.”

A great roar came instantly from the throats of any of my soldiers. They were eager, they were angry. They were definitely ready.

We started again our walk. I was on my steed, at the head of the column. My spearmen and the Great Cross just behind me.
That moment, I felt totally indestructible.

“Take care Alexander”

Thread: An Eastern Jewel in a Western World !!! Chronicles of a French Miserable.

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